The Third Violet STEPHEN CRANE CHAPTER 30 pps

The Third Violet STEPHEN CRANE CHAPTER 30 "There's three of them," said Grief in a hoarse whisper.. "Four, I tell you!" said Wrinkles in a low, excited tone.. "Shut up!" said Wrinkles

The Third Violet

STEPHEN CRANE

CHAPTER 30

"There's three of them," said Grief in a hoarse whisper

"Four, I tell you!" said Wrinkles in a low, excited tone

"Four," breathed Pennoyer with decision

They held fierce pantomimic argument From the corridor came sounds of rustling dresses and rapid feminine conversation

Grief had kept his ear to the panel of the door His hand was stretched back, warning the others to silence Presently he turned his head and whispered,

"Three."

"Four," whispered Pennoyer and Wrinkles

"Hollie is there, too," whispered Grief "Billie is unlocking the door Now

they're going in Hear them cry out, 'Oh, isn't it lovely!' Jinks!" He began a noiseless dance about the room "Jinks! Don't I wish I had a big studio and a little reputation! Wouldn't I have my swell friends come to see me, and wouldn't

I entertain 'em!" He adopted a descriptive manner, and with his forefinger

indicated various spaces of the wall "Here is a little thing I did in Brittany Peasant woman in sabots This brown spot here is the peasant woman, and those two white things are the sabots Peasant woman in sabots, don't you see?

Women in Brittany, of course, all wear sabots, you understand Convenience of the painters I see you are looking at that little thing I did in Morocco Ah, you admire it? Well, not so bad not so bad Arab smoking pipe, squatting in

doorway This long streak here is the pipe Clever, you say? Oh, thanks! You are too kind Well, all Arabs do that, you know Sole occupation Convenience

of the painters Now, this little thing here I did in Venice Grand Canal, you know Gondolier leaning on his oar Convenience of the painters Oh, yes, American subjects are well enough, but hard to find, you know hard to find Morocco, Venice, Brittany, Holland all oblige with colour, you know quaint form all that We are so hideously modern over here; and, besides, nobody has painted us much How the devil can I paint America when nobody has done it before me? My dear sir, are you aware that that would be originality? Good heavens! we are not æsthetic, you understand Oh, yes, some good mind comes along and understands a thing and does it, and after that it is æsthetic Yes, of course, but then well Now, here is a little Holland thing of mine; it "

The others had evidently not been heeding him "Shut up!" said Wrinkles

suddenly "Listen!" Grief paused his harangue and they sat in silence, their lips

apart, their eyes from time to time exchanging eloquent messages A dulled melodious babble came from Hawker's studio

At length Pennoyer murmured wistfully, "I would like to see her."

Wrinkles started noiselessly to his feet "Well, I tell you she's a peach I was going up the steps, you know, with a loaf of bread under my arm, when I

chanced to look up the street and saw Billie and Hollanden coming with four of them."

"Three," said Grief

"Four; and I tell you I scattered One of the two with Billie was a peach a peach."

"O, Lord!" groaned the others enviously "Billie's in luck."

"How do you know?" said Wrinkles "Billie is a blamed good fellow, but that doesn't say she will care for him more likely that she won't."

They sat again in silence, grinning, and listening to the murmur of voices

There came the sound of a step in the hallway It ceased at a point opposite the door of Hawker's studio Presently it was heard again Florinda entered the den

"Hello!" she cried, "who is over in Billie's place? I was just going to knock "

They motioned at her violently "Sh!" they whispered Their countenances were very impressive

"What's the matter with you fellows?" asked Florinda in her ordinary tone; whereupon they made gestures of still greater wildness "S-s-sh!"

Florinda lowered her voice properly "Who is over there?"

"Some swells," they whispered

Florinda bent her head Presently she gave a little start "Who is over there?" Her voice became a tone of deep awe "She?"

Wrinkles and Grief exchanged a swift glance Pennoyer said gruffly, "Who do you mean?"

"Why," said Florinda, "you know She The the girl that Billie likes."

Pennoyer hesitated for a moment and then said wrathfully: "Of course she is! Who do you suppose?"

"Oh!" said Florinda She took a seat upon the divan, which was privately a coal-box, and unbuttoned her jacket at the throat "Is she is she very handsome, Wrink?"

Wrinkles replied stoutly, "No."

Grief said: "Let's make a sneak down the hall to the little unoccupied room at the front of the building and look from the window there When they go out we can pipe 'em off."

"Come on!" they exclaimed, accepting this plan with glee

Wrinkles opened the door and seemed about to glide away, when he suddenly turned and shook his head "It's dead wrong," he said, ashamed

"Oh, go on!" eagerly whispered the others Presently they stole pattering down the corridor, grinning, exclaiming, and cautioning each other

At the window Pennoyer said: "Now, for heaven's sake, don't let them see you! Be careful, Grief, you'll tumble. Don't lean on me that way, Wrink; think I'm a barn door? Here they come Keep back Don't let them see you."

"O-o-oh!" said Grief "Talk about a peach! Well, I should say so."

Florinda's fingers tore at Wrinkle's coat sleeve "Wrink, Wrink, is that her? Is that her? On the left of Billie? Is that her, Wrink?"

"What? Yes Stop punching me! Yes, I tell you! That's her Are you deaf?"